


Little Red Shorts

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW, NSFW text, Oneshot, Sex, Smut, Swearing, Taboo, explicit - Freeform, little red shorts, sex with coach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: This is literally inspired by those little red shorts Dean wears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red Shorts

You pulled your blouse back over your shoulders, shaking out your wet hair. Most of the other students had already left after gym, or they'd not turned up to class at all, and you sighed, packing your sneakers back into your gym bag before tossing it in your locker for the last time. You weren't entirely sure why you'd bothered to turn up to this last lesson, seeing as it was a week from graduation and you didn't need to actually be there. But you'd not felt like following everyone else to the juice bar to slack off, and besides, you liked gym, for the most part.

Or, for the Coach Dean Winchester in his little red shorts part.

It had been a long time you'd harboured a crush on the young gym teacher. He'd joined the faculty two years ago, fresh out of college. Rumour had it that he'd been unable to compete professionally due to an injury, so he'd come here to teach. He wasn't even thirty, and you'd spent the last two years sneaking glimpses of his muscular chest under that white shirt, and dribbling over his calf and thigh muscles. Every single girl, and not a few guys, in the school thought the same – Coach Winchester was hotness personified.

And now school was nearly over. You were nearly 19, one of the ones with an early birthday in the school year. And you were never gonna get to see Coach Winchester run around in those little red shorts ever again. It was a same. It was almost heartbreaking. It was the reason you'd decided to come to the last lesson. Standing alone in the changing rooms, you sighed, heading for the door. Out in the corridor, you shivered at the chill in the air, glancing down to the end where the door to Coach Winchester's office was. You briefly wondered whether you should maybe go say goodbye, but you decided against it, turning to leave the gymnasium. As you turned, you came into contact with a solid chest and yelped, stumbling backwards.

You looked up, swallowing hard as you realised you'd walked straight into the object of your crush. He was grinning, one eyebrow raised and your legs turned to jelly. 'Uh, Coach Winchester...I was...er...'

'Last one out huh?' His voice made butterflies spring to life in your stomach. 'You always seemed a little more enthused for gym class than the other students.' You nodded, not sure what to say and he narrowed his eyes. 'Y/N, right? You were on the track team last year.'

'Y-Yeah, I was.' You replied, thinking back. You'd only given track up because it interfered with your other classes, and it had been a decision you regretted since you'd seen less of Coach Little-Red-Shorts. Your eyes dropped a moment, and sure enough, he was still wearing those little red friggin' shorts.

'Hmm. Pity you gave it up. You had some speed on you.' He looked around. 'Would you mind stepping into my office for a moment?'

'Uh...why?' You shivered a little again. 'I mean, have I done something wrong?'

He chuckled. 'Not yet. Just need to give you something. Not just your last week, you know.' He stepped around you, and you turned, following him with confusion on your face.

'Not just my last week?' You repeated. 'I don't understand.'

'I'm moving up to Stanford. My little brother is getting married in a few weeks, and I accepted a job offer up there.' He unlocked the door to his office, holding it open for you to step inside.

'Stanford?' You looked around the office. Some of his stuff was in boxes already, waiting to be shipped off. 'That's a long way.'

'Are you planning on college?' Coach Winchester asked, shutting the door behind you both. The key turned in the lock and you stared, unsure of what was happening here, but not freaked out. If anything, this whole situation was just turning you on.

'I-I am. I'm going upstate.'

'Shame.' He gave you a lopsided grin. 'I've seen your grades. You wanna stay close to home?' You nodded, a little dumbstruck as he came closer.

'Coach...what...what's going on here?' Your voice was a little shaky, and he reached out, pushing your satchel off of your shoulder. It fell to the floor. 'I mean...isn't this...illegal?'

'As of about fifteen minutes ago, you're not my student any more. And you're over 18, right?'

'Y-yeah.' You replied breathlessly. 'But why me? I mean...there are other girls...'

He smiled, pulling you closer, the touch of his hands on your waist making you practically melt. 'Not like you. I've seen you, you know. You're a lot sneakier than the others.' His hand was on your leg now and your breath caught in your throat. 'I want you, Y/N.' That was it. He had you. This didn't feel wrong, although a small part of you thought it probably should, but what better way to end school, to graduate, than finally getting your hands on the man who occupied a good portion of your waking and sleeping dreams. The man that 75% of the school drooled over. You weren't exactly Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes, you'd done all the things expected of a high school student and indulged in a few things you probably shouldn't have done, but for the most part you'd behaved. Maybe it was time to change that.

Seizing the initiative, you pressed your lips to his, hard and he reciprocated, the hand that wasn't on your leg slipping around the back of your head, threading his fingers through your still damp hair. The kiss was hot and demanding, and you pulled away from him, panting.

'Colour me glad you're not a wallflower.' He grinned. 'Last thing I need is a shy virgin.'

'I'm not a virgin.' You replied, a smile on your face as you reached around and grabbed his ass. 'And I've wanted you for a long time. Never thought you'd be interested.'

'Normally, a younger girl is not my thing. But you...you're kinda captivating.' He kissed you again, holding you against him and grinding his hips into yours, showing you the evidence of his arousal. You groaned into him, grabbing at him harder as he pushed you backwards, towards the desk. Without breaking, he swept an arm across the top of the desk, removing everything in the way, mostly papers and pencils. A football rolled off with a thud and headed for the corner. You giggled as he hoisted you up onto the desk, pressing himself between your thighs.

'I'm really gonna miss seeing you in those little red shorts.' You laughed, and he looked down.

'I hate these things. It's a stupid uniform. Makes me feel all exposed.'

You shook your head, your eyes drifting down. 'No, the shorts are...good. Maybe on someone else it'd make them look like a dork. But seeing you run around...always got me hot.'

Dean raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips close to his ear. 'You have no idea how many nights I had to pretend my fingers were you.'

'Fuck.' He grunted, his grip on your legs tightening. 'You're a bad girl.' A shiver ran through you at his words and you pulled back, flushed skin giving away your arousal. Dean grinned, raising his hand to flick his thumb over your nipple as it strained underneath your blouse. 'You like that, huh?' He kissed your jawline, and you shuddered again. 'Being called a bad girl? Someone got a bit of a teacher kink?'

'More like a Coach Winchester kink.' You gasped as he pinched your nipple.

'A Coach Winchester kink?'

'Yes, Coach.' Your voice was a whisper as you replied. 'Like when you yell for us to push harder or go faster. Always got me wet. Your voice, yelling out. Using your whistle.' Dean smiled again, looking down at the whistle hanging around his neck.

'The whistle does make me god.' He joked, then pulled it off over his head. 'But that's a bit noisy for what I have in mind. Since you'll be screaming my name anyway. Or just “Coach”.' He pressed against you again, kissing you once more. 'Tell me, Y/N. You want your Coach to fuck you? Want him to take you over the desk?'

'Yes Coach.' His cock twitched and you groaned as he returned his hand to your breast.

'Want me to yell at you to go harder? Faster? Like all those times you got wet in class, you bad girl?'

'Fuck.' You moaned, your hands curling around the edge of the desk as you felt heat in your belly. 'Please, Coach.' Dean leaned forward, pushing you back a little, his hand grazing against the heat between your legs. You arched a little, looking for more friction, but he pulled away suddenly.

'You know what I want?' He asked, his voice low and throaty as he watched you with a heavy gaze. The little red shorts were not doing much to conceal his arousal now, and you licked you lips, hoping he was gonna ask you to do what you wanted to do anyway. 'I think I wanna see your hot little mouth around my cock.' Fuck. You slid from the desk to your knees, at eye level with those damn shorts, your hands running up over his muscular legs. For a brief second, you wondered if you'd fallen and hit your head in the shower, because you _had_ to be dreaming. Coach Winchester's cock was right in front of your face, a thin layer of fabric separating you from him. You'd brought yourself off too many times over imagining this.

Impatiently, you pulled the fabric of the shorts down, exposing his cock to you and a grin broke out on your face. High school boys had barely satisfied you, but this...you wondered how those fucking shorts had even contained him all this time. He gasped as the shorts hit the floor, his erection straining towards you. Wrapping your hand around him elicited another moan from his mouth, and he clasped the back of your head, encouraging you forward.

'Suck my cock, baby.' He said quietly, and you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes.

'Yes, Coach.' Your lips slipped over the head of his dick, taking him in as he let out a long, strangled cry.

'Holy fuck.' He thrust forward a little. 'Fuck.' He repeated.

It was probably a good thing he was a gym teacher and not an English teacher.

Your hand remained wrapped around the base of his cock – there was no way you could get him all in without choking – as he hit the back of your throat, and you hollowed your cheeks, moving your tongue up and down the underside of his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down. He'd gone beyond words now, only moans and sighs coming from him, his hand occasionally tightening on the back of your head, urging you forward. After a few long minutes of you sucking him down, he groaned. 'Harder.'

Heat shot through you at that one word, and you obliged, tightening your lips and your fingers, speeding up as he started to thrust back, fucking your mouth as you sucked him off. His groans came faster and louder, and his cock twitched in your mouth. Without warning, he pulled away, his hands roughly pulling you to your feet.

'I'm not cumming in your mouth.' Dean grunted. 'I wanna fuck you.' You didn't reply, simply kissing him hard and fast, pushing your own pants down as he swiftly undid your blouse, exposing your bra. That followed your blouse to floor as he pushed you back onto the desk, nudging your thighs apart with his knees. One of his hands splayed across the top of your mound, his thumb grazing your clit and you gasped, looking up at him, seeing the green of his eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock against your slick pussy. 'You want me?' He asked, watching your face as he played with your clit.

'Ugh...yes...oh fuck, please, Coach, fuck me.'

The smirk on his face was as filthy as it could be and he let you stew for a few more moments, coaxing you to the edge before he sank his cock into your cunt, and you cried out, unused to the size of him. He stopped when he bottomed out, holding you close and giving you time to adjust. 'I'm not hurting you am I?' You gasped as he moved a little, shaking your head.

'N-no, it's just...' You pulled your head up, trying to focus even though everything inside you was screaming for release and your heart was pounding so hard, you were fairly sure it was gonna burst. 'It feels...really...ugh fuck.' There weren't any words to describe it and he laughed a little, pulling out a little way before slowly sinking back in and you groaned again. He pressed his forehead to yours, keeping his motions slow and steady as he let you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

'Fuck you're tight. You sure you're not..'

'I'm not, trust me.' You ground out, pulling his mouth to yours in a fierce kiss. 'I just...fuck. You're bigger than other guys...' You trailed off, gyrating your hips on the desk, trying to get him to speed up. 'Oh god, you need to...please, Coach...please fuck me.' He pulled back a little, running his thumb over your mouth, before he pushed on your shoulder. You laid back, and he held onto your hips, watching his cock slide in and out of you a few times, slick with your juices. 'Please!' You cried out, and he smiled, keeping it slow, but slamming into you hard with every thrust. You whimpered with every stroke, every bruising thrust inside you, fingernails digging into the wood of the desk.

'You really want me to fuck you harder, sweetheart?' He asked, his thumb grazing your clit again, his eyes rolling back a little as your walls tightened even further around him. 'Say it.'

'Fuck me. Harder. Please, Coach. Harder!'

The words spurred him on, and he increased his pace, his fingers digging into your hips painfully as he pistoned his cock in and out, pounding into you so hard you felt the wood of the desk leaving marks on your back, but you didn't care as long as he was still fucking you, making the fire inside you burn hotter and hotter. You came with a scream of his name, and he fell forward at the clutching of your walls on his cock, grunting his own release deep inside you, the warmth of his cum painting your insides as he buried his face in your chest.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck.' His hips still thrust sporadically as he rode out his climax, pulling you up slightly to kiss you firmly. You returned the kiss desperately, wanting more, wanting to not stop this feeling he was giving you. But he was pulling away all too soon, helping you off the desk, holding you close to him as he continued to place soft kisses on your mouth and throat. A sigh escaped him as he looked up at the clock. 'I have to get going.'

Your face fell, and you pulled away, bending to pick up your clothes. You felt a little dejected as Dean dressed, and you followed suit, retrieving your satchel from where it had fallen on the floor. You tried to avoid his gaze as you wandered to the door, remembering it was locked. You didn't want to look at him; you felt used.

'Y/N.' His voice made you flinch a little. 'Hey.' His hand was on your arm and you turned to look at him, trying to ignore the small smile on his face. 'I got an appointment to sell my apartment. But I'm still here for another week.' He sighed, pulling you closer. 'You're not a student any more. Not technically.' He pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 'Maybe we're not gonna be living in the same area for much longer but...give me the week?' You looked up at him, seeing the honesty in his gaze.

'I thought you...'

'Thought it was a “wham, bam, thank you, ma'am”?' He said, his hand cupping your cheek. 'I don't think I could have one taste of you and not come back.' You smiled, ducking your head a little shyly. Dean chuckled, lifting your eyes back up to his. 'End of classes tomorrow. Meet me here.' You nodded, and he kissed you again, before unlocking the office door. Before you left, you paused, turning back to him with a sly smile.

'Will you be wearing the shorts?'

 


End file.
